Eventide
by WhatsABriard
Summary: Everything in that moment - everything - had changed. (Post S2CS "Murder Under the Mistletoe")
1. Chapter 1

The party passed as all did in the Fisher household: happily. The opulent yet cozy home glittered gold and twinkled with laughter and the passing of copious amounts of champagne. It was just another of Miss Fisher's affectations, to celebrate Christmas in July. After concluding a particularly terrifying case, the entire group was keen to celebrate no matter how off the season. Jane, profoundly happy to be home, hovered between Miss Fisher and Dot, occasionally curling her fingers into their sleeves and resting her head on their shoulders. Miss Fisher wasn't the type to hide things from Jane and she had recounted - in excruciating detail - the entire case to her young ward. Unflappable Jane had taken it all in stride but she seemed keen to stay close to the two most important women in her life.

Detective Inspector Jack Robinson watched in fascination as Miss Fisher - Phryne - reached up and cupped the cheek of her young ward as the girl rested against her side. It was a thoughtlessly gentle gesture that made Jack wonder if Phryne really - _really_ - had no maternal instinct as she claimed. Perhaps she had no desire to be a mother, but she certainly had a great capacity to care for others. The motley crew gathered in her parlor was evidence to the big heart that beat beneath the haute couture.

Midnight neared and slowly the party goers began to fade. Bert and Cec were the first to take their leave, tipping their hats to the other guests and stopping to kiss their employer on the cheek. Not long after, Dot escorted Hugh to the front door and the young man stopped and looked askance at his Detective Inspector. A shake of Jack's head had Hugh dipping his chin and swallowing his grin as he followed Dot out of the parlor. Jane asked to be excused and gave hugs all around, including a surprised Jack who found his arms full of teenager. Miss Fisher pressed a kiss to Jane's forehead, leaving a bright red smear of lipstick, before shooing her to help Mac move Aunt Prudence upstairs to a guest room. Despite the older matriarch's insistence that she was not in fact drunk, her high pitched giggles as she missed a step said otherwise

When Dottie returned, pink-cheeked and grinning, she bid goodnight to Phryne and Jack before retiring to the kitchen to help Mr. Butler finish up the last of the evening chores.

"Leave it to the morning." Phryne called after them, knowing full well they wouldn't. Instead she released a sigh and dropped to a seat on the settee beside Jack before clinking her glass to his. "Merry Christmas, Jack."

"Merry Christmas, Phryne." He felt himself listing sideways to bump her shoulder as he finished off his drink. She bumped back affectionately before taking his glass and setting it aside.

They sat in silence for long moments, listening to the clock in the hall tick steadily, the low rumble of Dot and Mr Butler in the kitchen, and the muffled sounds of the group upstairs. It wasn't long until the entire house fell into its own version of silence, and still they sat. Jack wondered when, exactly, his silences with Miss Fisher had become so companionable.

He felt a tap on his finger and looked down to see Miss Fisher's - Phryne's - fingers gently dancing against his. Her arms were crossed over her knees and her movements would have seemed lazy if not for the intent way she looked down where their fingers met. The sharp curve of her hair fell forward to obscure her face as she continued to trace over Jack's limp hand with her finger.

Not that long ago it would have occurred to Jack that he should run - like hell - out of the house and into the night. That being with Miss Fisher was infinitely more dangerous than being alone, and that he ran the risk of losing his heart to her especially under the cover of night with her lightly scented body tucked so firmly at his side. But those truths had slowly been replaced by others. He'd already lost the war with Miss Fisher - Phryne - and had lost his heart as well. He was comforted by the fact that it seemed, at least a bit, like she was losing hers as well.

"You're awfully quiet." She murmured, and lack of speaking made her voice deliciously raspy.

"There isn't much to say." He caught her wandering fingers and held on, giving them a gentle squeeze. He felt her sag beside him briefly before lifting her gaze to his, and he could see the witty remark poised on those red lips.

"Well then. Good-" and she was cut off as Jack's face swooped close to hers, lips stopping mere millimeters from hers. Her studied smile widened into something more genuine and without hesitation she closed the gap.

The flick of her tongue against the corner of his mouth and it was as though Jack had been lit on fire. He gasped and the kiss, which had been intended as a gentle first-time press of lips, turned into something else entirely.

Leave it to Phryne, he thought, before her fingers curled into the hair behind his ears and he couldn't think at all anymore.

* * *

When Jack sent Phryne out of his investigations - and therefore his life - the worldly wise woman was reminded of a profound truth from her early life.

There were things far worse than losing what you wanted; it was distinctly more devastating to lose what you didn't know you needed.

And Jack had become just that - a necessity. She hated to be cliche, but whether he liked it or not, Jack Robinson had become the much-required ballast on the HMAS Calamity that was Phryne Fisher's life. So she had accepted what he was willing to allow, grasping greedily at the bits of him he would share, and set aside all true hopes for more.

She wasn't by nature a particularly jealous woman. Women as a gender had it hard enough without sabotaging one another and it seemed dangerous to begrudge other women what they had when she could just go out and find her own. So it was terribly unfamiliar to feel the pang in her chest as she watched Jack cross the space to his wife - ex-wife - and take her in his arms easily.

To have Jack - physically - would have been easy, she realized. But the part of him she most treasured, the part that warmed her and protected her, the essence of his goodness, would have been lost in the deal. A willing body was something she could get anywhere. She wouldn't ask Jack to betray himself to satisfy their - mutual, she was sure - lust. She couldn't bear to betray him that way, and so she had gone. Left him in the arms of his wife - yes, wife - and returned to her home alone.

Imagine her surprise when he showed up hours later on her porch, a lost stray with every intention of making his way inside. Soulful eyes gone gray in the porchlight, he slid past her gingerly with his hat in his hands and his usually inscrutable face was even more conflicted. Phryne steeled herself for his infuriatingly gentle way of letting her down easy and instead took the initiative to tell him she appreciated that he always did the right thing.

The look in his eye as he took an assured step towards her set her skin to burning immediately, and the rush of heat in her chest made her breath catch.

_Oh._

Aunt Prudence may have interrupted, but it was too late.

Everything in that moment - _everything_ - had changed.

* * *

It was Phryne's moan that somehow reached Jack's senses through the rushing in his ears. When he moved to pull his mouth from hers she followed him hungrily, looping her arm around his neck and pulling him until they slid from the settee onto the floor. The sudden shift in position effectively stalled them for a moment and Jack had to look away from Phryne, reclined on her elbows beneath him, chest heaving. He had no intention of stopping now, not after he'd effectively lit the fuse, but he also needed to made a tenuous grab at control while he had the chance.

"You look pleased with yourself." She said teasingly and lifted a hand to push his hair back from his forehead, thumb tracing over his cheekbone before sliding to his shoulder. When he finally met her eyes again, his grin was lopsided.

He was sloppily in love with this woman who tugged at his collar as she laid back against the rug, her free arm tossed over her head wantonly. With her infuriating, reckless, big-hearted, brazen spirit and her determination to live life to the fullest. With her ridiculous smile as she coaxed his weight atop her before arching up to press her mouth to his once more.

He resisted momentarily, for form's sake, before giving into her.

As usual.

* * *

OK Producers, untill you come up with a 3rd season and prove me wrong, from this point on Jack and Phryne are ALL IN. You should probably make a third series and set me straight. Come on - I DOUBLE DOG DARE YOU.

/desperation.


	2. Chapter 2

It was only once he was home that Jack allowed himself the luxury of remembering the evening spent with Phryne Fisher. The slide from the settee only stalled them momentarily and, some unknown time later, they broke apart breathing heavily. Phryne held herself up on one elbow, half turned on her side to face Jack, her other hand playing in the collar of his shirt.

The _unbuttoned_ collar of his shirt. How had that happened?

She playfully slid her foot against his leg, raising her knee to clutch at his side. Her dress pooled half into her lap and Jack kept his eyes averted from the smooth expanse of silk stocking that ended above a smoother expanse of pale flesh.

She was so _warm_ in his arms and she was so _willing_ and...

"This is a bad idea," He heard himself saying, and the slow blinking look of shock - and hurt - that greeted him had him leaning forward for a reassuring kiss. He allowed his fingers to travel up her leg, to her knee, to the top of her stocks to rest gently on her waist.

"I have many things I would love to do with you, Miss Fisher…"

"All pleasurable I hope." She said, but she wasn't looking at him.

"But I don't intend to attempt any of them with your Aunt in the house."

Phryne's laughter was all relief and she let her forehead rest on his shoulder, her face turned into his throat.

The warm puffs of her breath against his skin were a serious detriment to his resolve.

"She's a very solid sleeper." She said and Jack nodded. It was not the night he was terribly concerned about, although he had a sneaking suspicion Phryne was as verbally inclined in bed as well as out of it. He simply had no desire to slink out of her home in shame in order to avoid her aunt.

Nor was he particularly ready to face the older woman's inevitable questions about his intentions toward her niece.

It seemed easier, in his mind, to avoid the conversation altogether for a while at least, as they sorted out what, exactly, was happening.

"Tomorrow?" Jack asked into Phryne's hair and she nodded against him.

"Come for dinner; stay for a nightcap?"

It might have taken him another twenty minutes to get out of the house, with a fresh mark on his throat that he would have to take extra care to hide, but the next evening would come soon enough.

* * *

On the drive to the Fisher house, Jack allowed himself the luxury of imagining what decadent and sinful evening Phryne would have planned. It was a rare position, to allow himself to be seduced by a woman, but he'd come to enjoy the game and looked forward to the conclusion. He envisioned a darkened dining room lit only by candles. Or a picnic in front of the fire. Or, even, dinner in bed.

He had no doubts that Phryne was incredibly imaginative.

So it was with no amount of surprise that he found her home bustling with light and noise when he arrived promptly at 8.

Jane sat in the parlor at the piano, plinking out a song she was beginning to learn. Phryne stood in the middle of a whirlwind of color in the center of it all, a harried ringmistress leading them all in a show of her own making. Impeccably dressed though she was, her hair was slightly mussed and she looked just a little bit preoccupied with the myriad of half-filled boxes around her.

"Jack!" Phryne looked up from the armful of silk she held and immediately stuffed the wad into Dot's arms. She crossed the room to Jack and, rather unceremoniously he thought, stood on her toes to place a casual kiss on his lips. If any of the gathered group noticed, nobody reacted. "I lost track of time, Darling, I'm so sorry. Dot asked me for some donations for the church bizarre."

Jack could only nod as Mr Butler appeared and announced dinner. Heading the motley parade through to the dining room, Phryne handed out a few more instructions for Burt and Cec to follow after dinner. Sometimes, rarely (usually, he imagined, after he'd spent the evening before exploring her curves with his hands), he forgot that Phryne was indeed a grown-up with a life outside their investigations. She was not as carefree as she liked to pretend, although her responsibilities didn't seem to wear her down. A trick he wished to learn from her.

And that was how, instead of the darkened room full of candles and sinful food and sitting far too close to Phryne, dinner ended up a loud, boisterous meal consisting of the entire family.

If it wasn't for the sly smiles Phryne sent him as she passed him a roll, or the way her bare toes brushed his shins every so often, he would have thought she'd changed her mind entirely. Or at least suffered selective amnesia. He felt his confidence wobble just a bit.

By the time dessert was cleared away, everyone began to excuse themselves. With a kiss to Phryne and Dot's cheeks, Jane headed up to bed to finish the last of a book she'd been reading. Dot informed them that Hugh was coming for her to take in a late picture, Burt and Cec were planning to finish carrying the boxes to the cab before heading to the pub and Mr Butler would be busy in the kitchen.

When they finally found themselves once more side by side in the empty, quiet parlor, Phryne grinned in the face of Jack's blatant confusion.

"What?" She asked, obviously enjoying the way he merely stared. Nothing had gone the way he imagined, although he didn't know why he was even surprised. Things with Phryne Fisher rarely went the way one would expect.

Silence stretched, this one less companionable and finally Phryne spoke, threading her arm through Jack's and curling herself closer to him on the settee.

"Jack, how many times do you think you've been to dinner here? With all of us?" She asked, and once more he was surprised by her tactic.

"Too many to count."

"Yes," she nodded, pleased, dropping her head on his shoulder. "And how many dinners do you think Lin had here? Or Warwick? Or any of them, with Jane and Dot and the rest?"

He coughed and stiffened and she squeezed his arm gently, a gesture meant to be calming he thought. Yet it did nothing to stem the rush of jealousy at the mention of her other lovers, and he couldn't imagine why she thought it wise to mention them _now_, of all times. She didn't let him stew for long and he realized she was still speaking.

"Zero, Inspector. None." She tugged at his arm, willing him to look at her. "Do you know what that means? You are different, Jack. In so many ways. You're different. I thought you should know that. I thought they should know it, too."

If he expected her to be abashed at the simple declaration he was sorely mistaken. She merely grinned up at him in that infuriatingly way that said she knew something he was just starting to come around to.

She was smiling and waiting.

The realization that Phryne considered him to be separate from her string of dalliances was something Jack didn't feel comfortable inspecting too closely at the moment. However the secondary realization that this woman was waiting for Jack to make a move was stunning. Patiently waiting for him to catch up to her, to read all the clues, to understand, to come to a mutually satisfying conclusion.

Her pale hand snuck over to rest on his thigh, unashamedly high and her hot breath against his throat preceded just a flicker of her tongue against his adams apple.

"Take me to bed." She whispered against him.

Well perhaps not _patiently_. But waiting.

And Jack? Well...Jack was tired of waiting.

* * *

A/N - You know who else is tired of waiting, producer people? ME.


End file.
